


Seven Years [Fic]

by cantarina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Community: comment_fic, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, POV Female Character, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-29
Updated: 2009-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantarina/pseuds/cantarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nothing easy in the aftermath of Bill's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Years [Fic]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morlockiness](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=morlockiness).



It's hard to get through the days without Bill, but Ellen does it. There's the Roadhouse to run, at once comforting and heartbreaking in its familiar routines, and a brokenhearted little girl to care for. Jo spends all her time hiding just outside, like the bushes are some kind of protective fortress. She won't talk if she's not forced to and that's a hard silence, because Jo is normally a mile a minute. Ellen's always known that Bill could die on a hunt, but knowing that it could happen and knowing that it really has happened are two different things. She lets herself hate John Winchester and he doesn't show his sorry face.

The cleaning of the private living area gets neglected; Ellen is too busy trying to keep she and Jo above water and she's never been much of a housekeeper (Bill had always kissed her and said that it was a part of her charm, and oh, that memory hurts) but when she goes to it today, it's with zeal. She forgets that the mirror was never attached very securely to begin with, hanging on just one nail, and it goes crashing to the floor with the first good swipe. Ellen wants to swear, shattered glass all around and on top of her feet, and she wants to scream and cry and kick and let it all out, leave the grief on the floor with the broken mirror. Seven years, maybe, but what she really thinks is that that kind of bad luck has already made itself at home here.


End file.
